


Tooth and Nail

by MadnessIsScience



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alaska, Amazingphil - Freeform, Apocalypse, Chica - Freeform, Cold, Cryaotic - Freeform, Daniel Howell - Freeform, Disease, Dogs, Forestry, Forests, M/M, Markiplier - Freeform, Mountains, OC, Own Characters - Freeform, PewdieCry - Freeform, Phan - Freeform, Pine Trees, Septiplier - Freeform, Snow, Survival, Trees, cinnamontoastken - Freeform, danisnotonfire - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform, pewdiepie - Freeform, pretty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22787488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadnessIsScience/pseuds/MadnessIsScience
Summary: A Septiplier survival story!Sean, Felix, and Ken have been travelling together for months now, each of them having come to trust one another like family.Mark, Ethan, Tyler, and Jessica are in the same boat, though have faced significantly less than the former.Phil's a mystery they're trying to solve, and Dan and Cry are the answers they'll receive.This story will include implied PewDieCry and Phan!Enjoy!
Relationships: ChaoticMonki | Cryaotic/Felix Kjellberg, Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin, Phan - Relationship, Septiplier, pewdiecry - Relationship
Comments: 21
Kudos: 16





	1. Cold Determination

November 7th 2017

Crisp wind guides soft snow flurries towards the ground where they've yet to stick, the flakes melting upon contact and turning the dirt, with the help of this morning's rain, to thick and sticky mud. The mud is the type you can never stay safe upon, the viscosity just thick enough to fill the tread of a boot leaving you with a permanent slipping endangerment; whoever is to tread through it left wondering when they're sure to slip and fall, less like a possibility and more likely inevitable.

Through the wide-set flakes, down within a sunken-in, muddy, sullen gully, three men travel following the small rivulet, walking opposite to the waters flow. Today, they're travelling upstream in hopes of finding a bigger body of water, in hopes of somewhere they'll find shelter.

The man standing towards the front is stepping with great trepidation, hoping entirely that he won't slip and fall. It's cold today, and so having to wash off the mud would be a huge inconvenience to him, not to mention a threat to his health. The water is mountain run-off, melted snow, meaning that it's definitely tempered below freezing.

He's wearing a slightly torn, black and orange windbreaker, his left hand wrapped tightly around his hunting bow's shaft, his knuckles white and red with pressure and chill. His legs are covered with dark-wash, black denim, an unruly mop of dirty-blond hair sitting atop his head. His name is Felix.

Felix watches the ground below him stealing glances forward every few moments, keen, blue eyes intent on catching any kind of movement that'd bring a threat their way. His dirty, orange t-shit's collar's just peeking up past the windbreakers zipper, his throat exposed and red from the wind.

Walking behind Felix travels a slightly shorter man, his lower body dressed just as Felix's, through the knees are somewhat distressed, something they weren't a few months back. He's wearing a dark, army-green and grey t-shirt, his arms completely exposed to the elements, though with all of his thought's rushing through his mind, he can't find himself caring all too much about the cold.

There's a grey beanie sat atop his head, his dark-brown hair just peeking out from the front and hanging over his face shielding his equally keen, yet currently distracted, blue eyes, his gaze also cast to the muddy floor below them. A backpack hangs from his shoulders, the snowflakes falling catching against his long, dark eyelashes every now and then. His name is Sean, but when asked, he'd tell you it's Jack.

Taking up the rear of the group is Ken, his darker, brown eyes a brilliant contrast to his chilled, paler-than-usual skin, his teeth chattering slightly, his lips quivering, snowflakes also catching within his neck-length beard, his facial hair as dark as the brownish-black strands held against his head.

He wears nothing but black, his entire demeanour screaming authoritative, though he'd easily be the calmest and most collected of the three. His own jacket is hugged to him harshly, his eyes flicking to Sean every once in a while wondering how he's barely breaking out into a shiver.

"How much farther do ya' think it'll be?" Sean asks, his slightly receding, Irish accent filling the silence that they'd been carrying with them for the past five hours they've been walking. His question's directed towards Felix, him being the one who'd suggested going the way they are this morning after they'd just barely out-run the settling snow.

"I don't know. Like I said this morning, it's more a hunch than knowing. Where there's a little water, there's gotta be more, right?" the Swede replies, his own receding accent breaking the silence just after Sean's.

The Irishman decided against pointing out the fact mountain run-off wouldn't need a source in hopes of keeping his close friends mind at ease. He's accustomed to how stressed out the Swede can become in situations where his plan's proved improbable.

"Better be close... I don't know how much longer I can stay out here in this wind. I'm freezing!" Ken exclaims from behind. "How are you walking like that, Sean? I'd be dead by now!"

"I don't know, I've always been more resilient to the cold, I s'pose. Not like I'd have anything to cover myself with if I were anyhow... after those bastards took everything... fooking lousy arseholes..."

"Mm," Felix comments. "I'm not sure, it's just a hunch after all... Maybe if we can get to some higher ground you can climb up and get a look around, try and spot somewhere, Sean."

"Sounds good ta' me," he agrees. "Sounds like a little bit of a rest, too."

The three soldier on, Felix's weapon always at the ready, Sean's eyes keen, and Ken constantly calculating, always thinking. He's currently thinking about what he'd be able to do to get his friend something warmer to wear. It kills him hearing Sean's frozen chattering in the night and not being able to do a thing about it.

It's around midday, though the sun is obscured by deep-grey, callused clouds, the clouds of a promised storm, the clouds of a not-so-great time to come. Said clouds have been accumulating for the past few days, the intensity getting denser and darker as more roll in to join, the sky now nothing more than a huge amalgam of greys and cold.

Although overcast, their surroundings, when outside of the forests tall, needle-thick density, isn't darkened. The gleam of the water reflects the cloud's colour bouncing light from here and there, the huge, boulder-like rock outcrops a light, steel-grey also adding to the brightness of the terrain.

Felix pushes his way through a swamp of cat-tail reeds, his bow clearing his path as he decides where he can step without a mishap, the other two follow closely behind. They're now headed, instead of through the gully further, up and out of the mountainous dip in the earth and towards the rising hills of huge, bustling, dark-green, pine trees.

The forest is bordered with more rocks, there being no way of getting into the said wooded area without climbing over the top of them and hoping they don't fall and injure themselves. Although they'd most likely be okay after, there's no telling what their days will throw at them next. If they'll need to run, and one of them has twisted their ankle, then they're all likely to die. Or maybe they'd get a deep gash only for it to turn septic and slowly weaken them without proper treatment and eventually kill them... The world, after all, is unforgiving. In situations such as these, you must take every precaution necessary to keep yourself alive and well. Or as well as you can be considering.

Felix is the first to reach the boulders after their steep incline. He stops and takes a moment to breathe and kick his boots against the stone to relieve them of some of the built-up mud. The less mud, the less chance of slipping. The others follow suit upon reaching him, too. Clumps of dirt kicked against the stone as the three finish up.

"Alright, you two know the drill, yeah?" Sean asks the two as he gets himself into position holding his hand towards the rock slope.

"Yeah... Sure do. Umm, crash course? A refresher, if you will?" Ken suggests as he looks from their looming obstacle to the Irishman.

"Watch your hands, but keep keen attention on your feet. If yer' gonna fall, it'll be 'cause you weren't watching ya' feet. Test where you're holding, and where you're stepping. One wrong hand-hold or foot-hold and you'll fall... we can't afford injuries. Just be careful. Watch me for tips if ye' have to."

The Swede and American nod in understanding before Sean nods back to them and begins his climb, his friends repeating his steps.

Sean's careful to test his weight on each step, judging whether or not the stones will crumble beneath him, each step, each reach, each hold, all soundly calculated. He's good at this, at climbing, scaling, running; he's always been good at it. He's the best of the three when it comes to the more physical side like this at travelling by far. In fact, it wasn't until after Felix and Ken had come across him that they ended up questioning why they'd never decided to do as he does sooner. It's proved on more than a number of occasions to be a very useful skill for both running and surviving.

They reach the top without fault, Ken only nearly slipping once for overcompensating on one of his lunges. Sean's hands are much different from the other two's. Where theirs are softer, more gentle, his are callused, hardened, survivors, climbers, a runner's hands.

Sean's the one to lead them into the trees this time. The forest is his element after all. He's less likely to get the group turned around than Felix is in areas like this. It isn't his fault though, because, in all honesty, it doesn't take much at all to get turned around in the forests when each tree looks exactly like the others. Or at least that's how they seem to all except Sean.

He'd practically grown up within the wilderness, most of his young-adult years spent living within a cabin in Ireland among the trees, his mind always on the natural world hanging just outside his wood-pane window. Even as a child he'd spent most of his time outside and climbing trees, his heart one with it by now.

It takes them another hour and a half of trekking the incline towards the topmost point of the mountain their clambering up. The mountain itself is more of a hill, though tall enough to tire the men. The three wishing for nothing more than somewhere half-decent to spend the night. With any hope, Sean will see something from his nest within the canopy.

"A'ight," Sean stops them once he's deemed them high enough. "You guys can take a load off. I'll head up and see what I can see."

Ken and Felix both nod as their friend sizes up to one of the tallest of the trees, his mind is set on getting the best view he can. He's very much looking forward to finding somewhere where his friends can rest. Seeing them so warn down, rough, and deflated is taking a toll on him even though he hasn't known them all that long, he wouldn't hesitate to call them family.

The determined Irishman immediately feels within his element as he's climbing. One foot after the other, one hand at a time. Fingers wrapping around branches, muscles warming with the effort of lifting himself. Even with the more prominent cold the further up he climbed, the growing heat within his muscular arms and torso warmed him completely leaving an almost-content smile gracing his pale features as he goes.

The branches are freezing against his skin, some a little glazed over with this morning's frozen rain, though the pain is greatly dulled by the calluses he has hugging his skin. His breaths remain even, and his eyes are focused on the prize, the prize being the break within the canopy of brushing needles that'll serve as his window to the surrounding area.

Sean's head eventually breaks through the dark-greenery, his blue eyes lighting with the sight before him. Up here, up and within the clouds, the cold, cold air, and the wind, he can see everything.

He can see the gully they travelled here through, and the mountain range that cups the valley, the green of the rolling, mud-sunken, grasslands. He can make out the smattering of rocky outcrops, the changing densities of shrubbery and grasses, and the ever-colour-changing, mountain flowers blooming here and there, small, intricate patterns being drawn against the flattened areas of grass with the silvery streams of silk sunlight fighting its way through the canopy of curdled clouds.

It's beautiful.

This part of the world, the sights and scenery left over, is Sean's absolute favourite thing to get lost within, though, with a slight shake of his head to break his own self-induced trance, he reminds himself that he's up here for a reason, and not just for the tranquillity the sight's offering.

He turns to get a look towards the area that he hasn't seen yet on the opposing side of the mountain they've climbed, and with widening eyes, a grin breaks out across his face.

It's a little while away, but it's an extraordinary find all the same, and his heart begins racing with joy when he imagines his friends reactions upon informing them on his find.

At the bottom of the opposing side of this mountain, there's a valley filled with what seems to be almost miles of dirt, shale rocks, and the occasional clump of brush breaking up the browns and stone-greys. The shale leads towards a seemingly fast-paced, chilled river, the other side of the said river, a small area of more shale and dirt before it climbs up into a vertical cliff-face, more trees, a little more varied in type, yet still prominently pines, overhanging that.

What's excited Sean though, is the small, dark smudge he can recognise as a hikers rest-stop hut.

Sean hastily hits the ground quickly alarming his companions, a hopeful grin plastered across his face.

"You find something?" Felix questions, his brow furrowing but his mind peaking at Sean's expression.

"You bet your Swedish Meatballs I fookin' did! How do you guys feel about another cliff-climb?"

Both Ken and Felix let out a groan of hopelessness, Felix's face falling a little.

"Hey! Don't be like that! That isn't what I found, it'll just be somethin' we've gotta deal with if ya' want to get to what I have found!" Sean defends himself.

"What did you find, Sean?" Ken asks this time.

"Come with me, and I'll show ya'"

Both of the men begrudgingly follow Sean back down the hill in the opposite way they'd come up, Felix stopping once to remove a stone from his shoe. Neither bother asking Sean what his deal with the secrecy is because both know he'll refuse to reveal anything in hopes of hiding a surprise.

It's once the three break out onto the shale that they realise why Sean had been so excited.

"You're kidding!" Felix calls, a grin spreading eagerly.

"We haven't come across something like this for weeks! Sean, this is awesome!" Ken confirms the Irishman's thoughts.

"Well then! If yer' agreeing with me on this, I'd say we should get a move on, don't ya' think?" Sean exclaims proudly, glad he's found somewhere for his friends to sleep protected from the elements for at least a little while. "Come on!"


	2. 2- The Leader, reader, cartographer, and Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is a little sloppy... please bear with me here!

The trees seem to carry on for miles upon miles. Tendril branches reach this way and that, clusters of fallen needles, leaves, and the occasional pine cone accumulating below them. The sun of sometime just-past-noon is causing said branches to cast shade upon the old, worn-out, hiking trail. The trail itself surprisingly dry given it’d rained just this morning.

If there is ever to be a singular word to describe the trail this particular group of four-and-two-halves are walking upon, the wandering group’s only female would suggest beauteous, no… no, she’d say pulchritudinous. The entirety of their surroundings completely, utterly, and astoundingly beautiful. Wordlessly so, almost.

From the pines leaking shadows and mystical grey-blue glow to the spiral, silver-smoke fog, thinned and luring the leaf-litter ground into vague invisibility. Every so often they’ll pass rocks covered in thick moss, the moss also a common find against many of the trees, though the contrast of vibrant-green against the monochrome-stone is much more pleasing to the eye.

Despite all of this, the world is still an ugly, unforgiving, and uncontrollable mess.

Today, the group of four-and-two-halves are searching around fruitlessly for somewhere where they can rest and wait out the ever-approaching storm. The air is electric with the coming phenomenon of thunder, lightning, wind, and torrential rains.

The four and their four-legged companions are walking the pulchritudinous path in a single-file line, their dogs being the exception as the two jumps around playfully between them as they admire the small piles of snow that had stuck to the ground overnight.

The snow has been catching up on them as well. They’ve been trying to outrun it for weeks, but it seems to be coming from all angles, almost herding them to the South, the same direction they’ve been travelling since mid-October.

At the front of the line stands the groups appointed leader, his hair half-hidden beneath a warm, grey-knit beanie, longer curls of chocolate-brown hair slipping from the edges of it, dark-ocean-blue eyes watching the unsaturated, almost, trail In hopes of keeping them all safe.

He’s draped in a warm, grey hoodie and deep-black cargo-pants, his cold hands holding the handles of his backpack tightly as his eyes dart in and out of the surrounding trees. His attention only ever shifts from there when he’ll hear a small giggle from the woman walking behind him and reading away as if she isn’t supposed to be watching where she’s walking. Though he knows it helps her, and so he leaves her be.

His name is Tyler.

Tyler’s tired, he has been for a long few months now. None of them gets the rest they most definitely need, always moving so far, running on so little, and resting for even less.

Behind him, practically oblivious to the world around her now she isn’t trying to decide upon a word that would perfectly fit the scene, stumbles a young woman, much younger than the rest of them, with medium-brown hair braided from her crown and down past her shoulders, her nose pressed in the same book she’s read more than three or four times now.

In saying that, her attention will shift from the well-read pages every so often to make sure she isn’t needed, nor that she’s accidentally wandered off of the path. She doubts though that the others within her group would allow her to just stumble off into the trees but within this world, in this day and age, stranger things have happened.

She’s dressed head-to-toe in dark purples and damning-greys. Blue eyes glowing against pale skin, a purple beanie hat, reminiscent to Tyler’s, sat upon her head and just covering her ears, a scarf that somewhat matches keeping her throat from the trembling winds. This woman the boys call Jess, though when introduced to strangers, is Jessica.

She smiles down to the hyperactive German Shepard named Zoe who’s nudging the back of her legs as she moves. Zoe’s coat slightly damp as some of the flitting snow-flurries that have managed to fall through the trees had caught her thick fur.

Behind Jessica, the girl still much too involved within her book for her safety, wanders another young man, his hands held within deep pockets for warmth until he’s reaching out to scratch Zoe as she begs for some well-deserved attention. She, after all, is doing marvellously well, just as their other canine companion is.

This boy’s name is Ethan.

He’s a little younger than the other two men, a fair bit closer to Jessica’s age than them as well, his own blue eyes, the eye colour seemingly a running theme within their group, held against the track beneath Jessica’s feet so he’ll be able to react if she’s to fall, which, she hates to admit, while consumed by her book, she does a fair bit.

He’ll often occupy his time with making sure she isn’t running into things, which both hate to admit given the ongoing teasing they’ll receive from the other two whenever they’re together. Neither has thought about the other romantically, but no matter how hard they try to convince the others of this, the teasing continues. Most of the time, Ethan doesn’t mind though, because when his friends are teasing them, they aren’t watching around themselves nervously and sadly in hopes, they’ll one day be able to find the lives they once lived, their mind's held by other things, by past things.

Ethan usually wears a hat, though today he decided to pack it away as he likes the feeling of the snow dancing across his brown, curly hair and lashes. His hand retracts from Zoe’s coat and back into the deep pockets of his navy windbreaker. Light blue stressed jeans, muddied with time and circumstance hugging against his lanky legs.

The last of the four is walking at the back, his attention held on each of the other three. He’s always watching them, making sure they’re safe, making sure they aren’t held up within their heads, but predominantly taking in as much of their presence as he can for fear of losing them too soon.

His eyes contradict his groups theme, his a beautiful, creamy-choc-burnt brown, polished-mahogany, pooling beneath long, black lashes. Keen attention swapping from one to the others. His hair is a deep-raven, wavy atop his head, the front falling over his eyes now and again, the sides significantly shorter than the top.

He’s wearing his signature lucky-red-flannel beneath his black, hooded jacket, dirtied, grey jeans, and a black backpack. A pair of glasses are perched on his nose. He often marvels at how he’s managed to keep them seeing as he’s the clumsiest of the quartet, though sometimes Jessica proves otherwise.

“Do you think we’re even going in the right direction?” Tyler asks finally, his attention shifting to those behind him.

“Hmm?” Jessica hums in response, her head coming out of her book for the first time in the last few hours. “Ethan says so… I trust him.”

“Yeah!” Ethan protests from further back, “She trusts me!”

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I’m saying I don’t trust me. I’m leading us. Who’s to say I haven’t had us all turned around?”

Chica wonders from the very back of the group, her attention peaked by Tyler’s self-deprecating distrust within his abilities. She nudges his side, one of his hands leaving his bag straps to pat her on the head, a small smile finding its way onto his face.

“I trust ya’,” Jess states, her thicker Australian accent showing through as she pats Tyler’s shoulder and then turns back to her book. “And Chica does too, see?”

Tyler continues to pat her head for a little while before hearing a laugh and a thump causing him to turn and try holding back his laughter. Ethan is pointing and giggling like a little kid, and Mark is smiling and shaking his head. On the ground behind him kneels Jessica, her book thrown to the ground and her expression sheepish.

“What have we talked about, Jess? You knew it would happen again if you kept doing it,” he says still trying to suppress his laughter.

“Oh, shut up!” Jess defends. “You’re all just jealous that the ground got a hug!”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Tyler finally laughs as Ethan helps the slightly annoyed girl from the forest floor. “Just try to pay a little more attention, yeah?”

“Whatever,” she mutters dragging out the ‘a’.

On the map they’ve been keeping close since the beginning, there’s supposedly a small cabin somewhere along this trail. They’ve been walking to find it, the other’s being under where the storm’s most likely now raging, in hopes of having somewhere with a roof to spend the night.

“Wow,” Jessica suddenly exclaims loudly, her book suddenly forgotten as her attentions stolen away by something a little ways into the trees. “Look at that!”

“Look at what?” Ethan asks. “All I see is trees!”

Jess is quick to stuff her book into Tyler's bag before she moves off of the trail and towards a grouped area of leaves and pale, red berries. She immediately sets to work picking as many of them as she can, her hands full by the time Tyler’s at her side with a small, paper bag she can deposit her handful into.

“They’re edible I’m guessing,” he comments. Jess nods.

“Cornus Canadensis! Or more commonly known as Bunchberry! They’re a flowering plant native to these forests. They’re a part of the Dogwood family… There doesn’t seem to be a colony of them here, but these look great, right?” she rattles off.

“Do we cook em'?” Ethan’s voice calls from the trail, Zoe’s padding footsteps coming closer as she, too, wants to examine the berries.

“You can cook them if you want to, but you can also eat them raw! Creeping Dogwood’s super high in vitamin C, so this is a great find! They’re not as sour as they look, either. They’re quite nice! Here, try some!”

Jess moves around to each of the three, each taking one or two of the berries to try, her smile never fading as she sees the promising look of satisfaction take over their features. She then pops one into her mouth and savours the flavour.

“Wow, they’re really good!” Mark comments finally speaking up for the first time in a little while, his mind has been on other things.

“Right?” Ethan exclaims next.

Both Ethan and Jess move back over to the Bunchberry bush to harvest them as quickly as possible to they’ll be able to get a move on.

“We’ll have to keep an eye out for more of these. If we’ve come across these, there’s bound to be more!” Jess says, her hands moving from the bush to the small notebook she keeps on her at all times. She takes the little pencil as well before scribbling down her find just as she does with everything else.

“No kidding,” Ethan says as he stuffs a few more berries into his mouth. “These are great!”

“Don’t eat too many, Blue. You’ll make yourself sick,” she warns.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies as he resumes placing the berries into the bag instead of his mouth.

It takes the two no more than ten minutes to completely strip the bushes of the berries, a generous portion now stocked away in Tyler’s bag, and then they’re off again.

Ethan’s pretty much positive that there will be a shelter somewhere in the distance, but he can’t help but worry about whether it’s unoccupied at this stage. Anyone else could have seen this opportunity as well and snatched it up as soon as possible. As well as that, there’s also no solid knowing whether or not the place is even still standing.

“Do you guys think that it’ll still be there?” he asks meekly after over-thinking it for too long.

The young man brings his hands up and runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he picked up over the past year, his eyes still glazed with not knowing what he has his group walking into. They could end up dead if there’s another group there! They’d kill then for what they had.

“We won’t know until we get there, but if it’s not, it won’t be your fault, okay?” Mark consoles gently, Chica walking at his heel, Zoe a pace next to her.

“Guys?” Tyler’s voice breaks through to them. “I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.”

All four of them look through the thinner area of trees to find a vast valley hanging far below them, though they don’t pay it any mind as they’re all much too engrossed with the old, rickety, yet still-standing hiker’s hut sitting dangerously close to the precipice’s edge.

“No way… I was right…” Ethan breathes.

“Of course you were!” Mark comments clapping a reassuring hand upon the man’s shoulder. “None of us doubted you, you know? So you shouldn’t have either!”

“But there were so many variables, you know? Anything could have happened to this place, or anyone could have already been here… I can’t believe I was right.”

Jess smiles to the boy before patting her dog and moving towards the building, though just before she can exit the treeline Tyler’s hand grips her upper arm holding her back.

“Get behind cover,” he hisses to the three, each of their eyes darting towards where he’s watching. “Now!”

Ethan is quick to pull Jess into a bush just large enough to keep them both covered, both dogs wiggling in to hide with them. Tyler takes to the trees as he silently gestures for Mark to do the same.

Heaving themselves over the cliff’s edge is a man in a dark-green and grey shirt helping another man over after him. This could mean trouble for the group, as the man the first has just pulled up is holding a weapon meaning they’re more than likely willing to fight for the spot they’ve just found moments after the four before them.

Mark watches intently with interest from his place in the tree, his breath catching when the dark-haired boy with stunningly-blue eyes quickly averts his attention to the forest that he and his group are sloppily hidden in. He’s watching the ground, or more specifically, the path the four had just arrived upon, his eyes keen and suspicious as he moves closer too it, Mark eventually losing sight of him as he passes through and into the greenery.

This could mean trouble...


	3. 3 - Luck of the Irish

The trio of men slip and slide against the unstable shale and smooth stones as they make their way as quickly as they can towards the first of two large obstacles that’d hinder their journey getting to the shelter atop the cliff face.

It isn’t quite as cold down within the valley area as it is up higher, especially towards the tops of the trees, but it’s still freezing nonetheless. There’s a brittle wind cascading past them like rushing water, the flow sending snow into their hair and on their clothes. Sean takes a moment to rub at the numb skin of his arms with his freezing-cold hands, his fingers beginning to tremble from the exhaustion coupled with chill.

He, out of the three of them, has slept the least through the past six or seven days. He’s always first to take watch, by his choice of course. The other two try their best to convince the Irishman to let them take watch instead, but it’s not often he’ll back down.

There’s relentless anxiety that’s constantly piquing within him when the nights come because that’s when they’re most likely to be ambushed, and he can never fathom the thought of not being the one there, awake, and ready to defend his friends at all cost. The only time’s he’ll let one of the others take watch and sleep is when he becomes so tired that he knows he’ll be no help to them if they are attacked.

Even though the stones are unstable, they’re preferable to the mud, the thickness much less tolerable where the water has been more prominent. To walk through the mud is like trekking through quicksand, steps sinking into the dirt-gunk, slowing them immensely.

Here and there, there are small crops of bush, brush predominantly made up of thorns and razor-sharp foliage, spindling, prodding sticks that tear at cloth and skin. They’re even less tolerable than the mud.

“How are we gonna get across that water, bros?” Felix asks as they further approach the rushing, raging, raving river. “That water’s gonna be fucking freezing. If it’s too deep, we won’t be able to cross.”

“Can’t afford to think like that,” Sean comments after Felix has expressed his worries. “If we can’t cross, we’ll have ta’ find a way ‘round. That could take us days. Can’t even make out where the water ends.”

“Well, I guess we’re just moving forward with hope and wishes then,” Felix sighs.

“Look, we don’t have much of a choice, alright? I don’t like this any more than you, but we’ve gotta do it. We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They’re standing at the rivers edge no longer than a half-hour after leaving the trees, their eyes raking in all the variables of which could prove fatal to them if they’re to attempt crossing. Most of it, unfortunately, doesn’t look great, but it isn’t enough to stop them from trying.

As Ken and Felix move towards the right side of the river, Sean looks along the left. Both are searching out somewhere where the water isn’t as high as it is where they’d come across it. If the water’s to reach any deeper than thigh-deep, it’d just be putting them at risk. Especially seeing as the water's current is much stronger than Sean thought it was from the trees.

He’s creeping along the edge with his eyes glued on the river bed when he suddenly comes across an area where the stones lining the water’s bottom are raised quite a bit more prominently than the others.

“Hey!” he calls to the other two. “Come ‘ere! Think I’ve got us somethin’!”

Ken and Felix are quick to make their way over to Sean, their brows furrowed as they examine the crossing their friend has found. Neither looks very convinced that it’ll be safe, but upon thinking about their other options, each more than likely resulting in their death, they look to Sean and nod solemnly.

Going around, though the safest way in most cases, would be their last resort, and in all honesty, could prove more dangerous than taking their chances with the rushing water. It’d take a lot of time, and eventually, they’d end up caught up in the ever-looming snow and lightning storm still fast-approaching from the North.

“This doesn’t look even remotely safe,” Ken mumbles as he stands at the beginning of the make-do walkway. “But… I’m not seeing many choices guys. Are we sure about this?”

“I don’t like it either, Ken, but I don’t think we’d make it around before the storm. I don’t think we’d make it through said storm either.” Felix says calmly.

“Alright,” Sean starts, “Get the rope out. We’ll tether one of us to one end and the other two will hold onto the other in case the one crossin’ falls in. The two at the other end’ll be able to pull ‘em back out. What’cha recon?”

Felix nods and Ken moves around to the bag still hanging from Sean’s shoulders to retrieve the aforementioned rope. While he’s doing so, both Sean and Felix are watching the occasional sheet of thickened ice floating along with the current. Sean swallows thickly as his imagination begins running with images of the worst.

“I’ll go first,” Felix begins, the two nod. “So I just tie the rope around my middle? You guys hold onto the other end?”

“Yeah, we’ll pull ya’ out if you slip in. Hopefully, it’ll be… in time…” Sean breathes. “Okay, you’ll need ta’ watch for a few things. First and foremost, some of the rocks are covered with algae, you can tell which by the green colour, they’re gonna be slippery, and so you’ll need to avoid them. Secondly,” he continues, “You’ll have to watch for unstable rocks by testing your weight on ‘em a little before standing on ‘em fully. Thirdly, watch for the ice, it’ll throw you in if yer’ not careful. And lastly, try and keep the water below mid-thigh, anything else and you might get sick. Got it?”

Both of the other men agree with Sean’s short lesson before Sean’s tying the rope securely around Felix’s waist. Both Sean and Ken take the other end of the rope firmly as Felix prepares to walk himself across.

The Swede steps into the water, his breath hitching at the temperature, but he doesn't let it stop him. The thought of having a roof over his head, and his friends, keeping his spirits and hopes high enough to get him through this.

He proceeds slowly, though not too slow, just enough to keep himself safe and stable while looking out for everything Sean had mentioned he watch for. Once he’s two-thirds of the way through, the footing becomes more stable than in the middle, and it takes him little time to reach the other side safely.

“Awesome work, Fe!” Sean yells across to his proudly grinning friend, the blond’s frozen hands fumbling to untie the knot holding the rope around him.

Felix lets the rope drop as the other two drag it back over to them.

“I’m gonna send you across next, Ken.”

Ken watches Sean carefully for a second before agreeing reluctantly. He doesn’t want to leave his friend on the other side of the river, having him travel across last after he and Felix had already dislodged quite a few of the stones on their ‘bridge’, but he knows that Sean won’t take no for an answer on this, the Irishman the most protective of the three, probably due to being alone for so long before finding them.

The rope is tied around him just as it was Felix. Trying to remember the path Fe took, the bearded man steps into the fast-paced river and begins his course across.

It’s towards the middle that the trip gets a little more difficult for the bigger of the three, his weight shifting the rocks further than Felix had. His sight isn’t the best either, his glasses having been lost a while ago, and because of this, he treads on a particularly slippery rock and stumbles. He throws his arms out in front of him and submerges them in water his balance shifting a few times before he regains it once again and stumbles toward the shore.

“You good, Ken?!” Sean yells from the other side, the rope still within his hands. Ken simply replies with a thumbs-up as Felix helps him stand upright while he regains his breath and composure.

Sean nods to himself before looking into the river. Where Ken had slipped, the rocks have dipped and fallen around each other ultimately making it much more difficult for him to cross. It’s doable, but after factoring in the other issues with crossing, the mass of submerged rock already being a challenge before they’d shifted, it’ll be quite a dangerous pass.

“Alright, the rocks have shifted… Keep a good hold on that rope!” he calls across as he scans the bottom for further trouble.

“Gotcha!” Felix calls back.

Carefully, Sean takes his first few steps into the water tightening the straps of his backpack as he does. He was right in thinking the current would be strong, and him being the lightest of all three is posing a problem.

He can feel the rushing water trying its hardest to pull his legs out from under him and bury him within its embrace, but with the skill, he’s acquired over the past year he soldiers on. The rocks are uneven and unstable just as predicted, and the algae growing against some are just as slippery as he remembers it being.

Sean’s head shoots up at the mention of his name once he’s reached halfway, the call distracting him from his footing, though regardless, he hadn’t been paying attention to what the river was pushing his way and failed to notice the large sheet of ice hurtling towards him quickly.

Once he does see it, his entire body tenses before he carelessly starts moving closer to the other side in hopes of avoiding it, but without the concentration he’d had for the river’s bottom beforehand, he stumbles on the rocks Ken had accidentally loosened and stumbles, his knees buckling slightly as the water pulls him down to just above his waist under the freezing water.

He gasps with the sudden temperature, his attention now on the cold instead of the ice, and before he can do anything to stop it, he slips a little further, and the ice sheet collides with his right temple pushing him further underwater and completely out of his friends sights.

“Sean!” Ken screams as he tries his hardest to keep a proper hold on the rope, though with the sheer force of the current it’s a struggle. “Felix! Help me!”

Felix rushes to Ken’s side and grabs the rope as well, the two of them quick to pull at it with as much force and haste as they can. It’s after a couple of seconds that Sean’s head reemerges from the ticket of the cold, spluttering and a shade paler than before.

The boys pull him in as quickly as they can, and upon reaching the shore the Irishman collapses to the rocky mass and lays on his back facing the continuous cloud, his breaths heavy and laboured, his teeth chattering.

“Hey! You alright, man?” Felix’s voice breaks the silence as he helps Sean to his feet, the latter’s skin icy to the touch. “Fuck, you’re freezing…”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Sean tries to assure as he watches Ken begin stripping himself of his jacket. “It’s cool, Ken. I’m okay. Keep it on ya’. I’m better with the cold than you are.”

“You sure, Sean? You’re white as a sheet,” the bearded man tries to reason.

Sean merely waves him off.

“What the hell was that?” Felix suddenly speaks. His voice razed into a more aggressive growl as he stares his friend down. “What the hell happened to being careful?”

Sean scowls in response. “Like I fookin’ planned it ya’ bastard. Don’t get like that with me! It couldn’t be helped!”

“You could have died! Fuck! You still might!” Felix fumes as his pent up frustrations from the past few weeks begin boiling over. “You have any idea how stupid that was?”

“Whatever. If it wasn’t me, it could’ve been Ken. Would you have preferred that? Of course ya’ wouldn’t! I know better than all of us that if you had to pick someone ‘ere to die, it’d be me, so drop it!”

“You don’t know anything about me! I wouldn’t ask anyone to die! What the fuck?”

“Oh, don’t act like that. I see it all the time! you’re scared of losing him! I know ya’ are, cause ever since Marzia-”

Sean doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Felix has roughly pushed him to the ground, a startled gasp escaping Ken as he watches everything unfold.

“Don’t you dare fucking talk about her,” the enraged Swede sneers.

“Felix, calm down!” Ken interject the fighting two.

It’s now that both Ken and Sean notice the trail of blood seeping from his temple where the ice had connected. Sean raises his hand and swipes it away before lifting himself back up, roughly shoving the rope back into his bag, and then storming off towards the cliff they’ve yet to climb.

“Quit acting like you’re the only fucker who’s lost people, would ya’?” he growls as he leaves.

Ken looks between the two, Sean’s gradually minimising frame, and the white-hot fire burning behind Felix’s eyes. This isn’t the first time they’ve fought like this, nor the first time they’ve fought on this particular subject. It’s also unlikely to be the last.

They’re arguments always stem from the same thing, loss. But they’re always hiding the truth of that behind fights like these. They’re both terrified to lose anyone else, so when something like this happens that threatens to wake that dormant but every-present anxiety, they’ll turn their fear to frustration and take it out on one another.

Sure, today they’re seemingly fighting about Sean’s supposed carelessness but said incident’s nothing more than a coat of paint covering up how much they’re still hurting because of those they’ve lost, and how losing them has concocted horrible anxieties towards losing anyone else.

Ken huffs exasperatedly as he rubs at his eyes before looking to Felix and then moving after their third member, Felix following begrudgingly after him.

Sean’s the first to reach the cliff face for obvious reasons, closely followed by the others. He takes the backpack from his back, retrieves the rope once again, and then replaces the pack, turning to the others while simultaneously avoiding Felix’s angered gaze, and speaks.

“I’ll climb up first and tie off the rope. You guys can follow after I’ve thrown it back down. I get that ya’ can probably do it yer’selves, but the wall’s icy, and we can’t take any more risks.”

Ken nods and Felix simply stares towards the wall.

The Irishman huffs and takes his position against the incline, the rocks jutting before his gaze almost completely vertical. This, though a hard climb, is exactly what Sean needs. Climbing has always been his method for blowing off a little steam.

Hand over hand and foothold after leap, the smaller of the three gradually climbs his way to the top, muttering to himself about nothing in particular as he goes, and upon reaching the top, immediately ties off the other end and then stands behind the cabin as he throws the rope over.

It’s after all three of them are up that Sean hears a rustling and spins to face the treeline, his attention snapping to the cluster of fresh footprints stamped against the thin, muddy, slushy snow. As the other two are untying their rope, Sean moves forward to investigate what he’s found.


End file.
